Chapter 18
Rafi
I just finished my last rep of sit-ups for the day when Coach looms over me. Reaching an arm out, I take it, and he pulls me up to a stand. We're similar in height but age has thinned his muscular frame, though back in the day, Max Boseman was a force to be reckoned with.
"Give any more thought to that endorsement deal?"
I wipe my neck with a towel and walk to a mat to stretch.
Following behind me, he continues, "You know I don't give a shit one way or another, and anything that distracts you from the win is not something we're interested in. But they keep calling and I've gotta give them an answer, so if you want it, it's yours. If not, that's fine. Just make a fucking decision."
I've been thinking about it. Emma supports me either way, which is what has me leaning toward yes. Because I want to be able to support her, and this is easy money. I don't think it'll be a distraction, and I trust that Emma will help me stay grounded.
"Yeah, tell them yes." It's only a few photo shoots and I need to make a few posts online about them, honestly, it's not that big of a deal.
"Alright, I'll let them know."
We talk a little bit more, we've only got about two weeks left before Nationals. I'm in the best shape of my life, but we don't relent on training. I rest, I train, then I rest some more. Every day it's like this. On my days off, I at least go for a run.
Emma joined me a couple of times, but her cardio stamina is comical. She made it a couple of blocks before, through gasping breaths, told me she'd meet me back at the coffee shop after she took an Uber back home. It was funny, but I convinced her to at least walk with me the rest of the way.
She came into the gym for the first time the other day, I wanted to show her around a little, she was curious. For her short stories, she said. I was all about that, but the second she walked in, her face turned tomato red and she could barely look anyone in the eye.
It didn't help that almost everyone wanted to talk to her, since she's become well-known in this circle. Raze's girlfriend. She doesn't realize how famous I am, yet, it hasn't really hit her, but when she comes to Vegas with me, it will.
Coach introduced himself and she adjusted her glasses and muttered a hello before looking down at the ground, chewing on her lip. After she left he told me he thought she was sweet. His opinion of her doesn't matter, but I'm glad he likes her, can see how important she is to me.
He's aware she's coming to Vegas with me, so apart from his encouragement of me being in a healthy relationship, he still reminds me to keep it in my pants before the fight.
The last couple of weeks have been amazing. We feel stable, like I can rely on her, on us. I already told her I wanted to marry her, but all she said was, not yet. It wasn't a no, but I was hoping for a little more enthusiasm. When I pressed her on it, she pointed out that we didn't even live together.
So I suggested we move in together, but that led to an argument about where we would live. She loves her apartment, and doesn't want to give it up. It's connected to her job, too. The old man that owns the coffee shop relies—I think too heavily—on her to take care of everything. So, I told her I'd move in with her, but she thinks her place is too small for the both of us.
When I pointed out her obvious reluctance, coming up with excuses at every turn, she admitted she was nervous that once I won my Nationals fight, it would be two years before I had another big one. She thought with more free time on my hands, I'd feel differently about her. This didn't make any sense to me, but she insisted we wait. The fight is over soon, and there's no need to rush, so I let it go for now, but I'm still buying a ring.
Which is what I spent the next day doing. I had an easy training day, Emma had to work at the shop all morning, so when I got up, I dragged Stetson out of the house with me.
"What's in Santa Cruz, again?" He grumbles, even though it's almost 10 am, he's barely awake. When Stetson is in full training mode, he's a beast, just as dedicated as I am. The difference is, unlike me, when he's not training, he lets a lot of shit go. He doesn't work out nearly as much, sleeps in a little later. He doesn't completely let himself go, but enough that when he gets going again, he'll have some difficulty adjusting.
"There's a shop I want to check out," I tell him. I didn't need to bring him along with me, but I have to admit, I'm a little nervous and out of my element. Stetson's my best friend and, fuck, if I can get a little advice, I'll take it.
He doesn't ask any more questions as we make our way into the city. Santa Cruz is chill, when you pull up into town, you don't realize you're there until you're in it. It's a quintessential California beach town, with hipster boutique stores and plastic-looking surfer guys and girls walking around in bathing suits on every corner. I like this town, but I prefer Wescott.
I follow the GPS and pull up outside the small jewelry store. It looks quiet from the outside, but it's a high-end shop, everything inside is handmade. I debated getting a vintage ring, which I think Emma would love, but I wanted to find something unique, that was one of a kind, just like she is.
We climb out and when Stetson realizes where we're going, he whistles loudly.
"Bringing out the big guns, huh? She mad at you about something?"
I frown in response.
"I assume that's why you're buying your girlfriend jewelry," he elaborates.
"Only you would think you get your girlfriend jewelry only when she's mad at you."
"Well, in my defense, I've never had a girlfriend," he points out, following me inside. I sent the owner an email that I was coming in this morning, she's expecting me.
"Hello!" An older woman's shrill, tremulous voice yells from out back of the store, "One second!"
We look around and I gravitate to the rings. The woman who owns the shop doesn't make these, but takes commissions for artists all over the country. Everything is sustainably sourced and handmade.
I find a glass display case containing rings and am drawn to a collection with pearlescent white opals. This one ring has a large, flat, oval white opal in the center and is surrounded by clusters of tiny diamonds.
"Oh, sorry about that! Oof," the lady, Mary I think her name is, says as she comes out from the back, tripping on a box on her way.
"You okay back there, sweetheart?" Stetson shoots her a megawatt smile.
"Oh, stop! No need to flirt with this old lady!" She waves her hand but smiles all the same, enjoying his attention. "And you must be Rafi?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"I see you've already found something you like. Anything in the case I can pull out for you?"
I show her the one I'm looking at and she pulls it out for me. Up close, it's stunning. Emma will love this.
"This collection is curated by a woman based out of Sante Fe. She and her family immigrated to this country a few years ago, and they have a long line of blacksmiths and jewelry makers. I believe she and her mother made every piece in this box."
I already know it's the one I want, but I tell her I'll take a quick look around the store before I get it. Stetson is browsing men's rings. "What are you doing man?" I ask him, amused.
"What? I could rock this?"
"No. You couldn't."
"Whatever. I got steez you don't even know about," he makes a 'psh' sound and I shake my head.
"Come here, I want your opinion before I get this."
He follows me over to the case and I point out the diamond and opal ring Mary set on the glass counter, and he lets out a long whistle.
"It's great man, she's gonna love it! Are you sure about a ring with diamonds though? The girl's gonna think you're proposing."
"I am proposing."
I don't know why, but I figured he suspected this already. We'd talked about Emma moving in, and he thought it was fast, but said he'd be cool with it. But the way he whips his head toward me, mouth agape, catches me off guard.
"You did know I was proposing?"
"No, fuckface, I didn't. Excuse me, my apologies, ma'am," he says to Mary who just winks and moves a little further to the other side of the store to give us privacy. "What the hell are you thinking man? I thought her moving in was too fast, but this? You've known each other, like, a month!"
"I've known her a lot longer than that." I remind him.
"Okay, a year. But stalking her from across the street from where she works doesn't count."
"I've known Emma more than half my life."
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"My pen pal. I told you about her years ago. I don't talk about her much but, we've been friends for years. That's Emma."
"Holy shit! Wait, what are the fucking odds! How did you find out?"
My friend is a dumbass. "I didn't just find out, I went looking for her. Why do you think I was so attached to her right off the bat? I thought you figured this out already?"
"No! Holy shit. Woah. This is nuts. Does she know? Cause she definitely didn't know, right?"
"No, she didn't. She does now, yes. So, this isn't fast for me. I can't explain why, but I know this is right. I think in a way it's why I fucked around so much when we first started winning and shit, getting it out of my system. I haven't even looked at another woman for over a year, since she and I met in person. This is it. She's the one."
He's quiet a moment, scrubbing his hand over his face. "That's insane. I mean, I get it man. I still think it's fast, but I see how you are with each other. It's just wild. Your story, the two of you, it's crazy."
I agree, but redirect him back to my first question. "What do you think of the ring?"
"I think it's perfect. For real, bro."
"I do too. Thanks, man." I didn't just drag him here to look at the ring—I needed to tell him some shit and it felt weird to do it at home or at the gym. We don't gossip or talk about relationships or whatever, not really, I guess I just needed an excuse to bring it up. Tell him where I was at.
I tell Mary I'll get the ring. It's five-thousand and I pay her and take it all wrapped up. We head outside, and, since we're here, spend a few hours in the city, grabbing food and hitting up the beach. It's a good place to live so close to.
By the time we get back to Wescott, it's dark out. I have to train early tomorrow and since I have Stetson with me, I just head home.
I call Emma after spending some time soaking in the hot tub, after I'm in bed.
"Hi! Uh, oh, hi, sorry." There's a loud noise in the background and an 'oof' when she bumps into her side table.
"Everything okay over there?"
"Yeah, sorry, I was just, umm. You know, I just got out of the shower and was getting ready for bed."
I'm immediately suspicious. Her voice is quiet and wavering a bit.
"Babe?"
"Yeah?"
"Were you touching yourself?"
"I uhh… maybe? God, I think there's something wrong with me. Since I met you I've needed multiple orgasms a day. Before I met you, I was fine with just one," she laughs self-deprecatingly.
"Em, there's nothing wrong with you. I'm sorry, I should have come over after I got back." We texted and both agreed it was just easier tonight not to. "You know, if we lived together, it wouldn't be an issue," I remind her, shamelessly.
"After your fight, we'll talk about it."
"Why do you think things will be so different? I don't get it."
She's quiet a minute. "I don't know how to explain it. We're both so busy. Or, you're so busy. I guess, when you're done your next fight, you'll practically be unemployed. What if with all that free time to hang out with me you realize I'm actually super boring? Because I am, you know. I see how Stetson is, in his off time. He likes to go out and go to restaurants and parties. I know you said you aren't like that, but the last time you weren't actively training was what, almost two years ago? You were like that, then. You told me as much."
"What are you worried about exactly? Just… be honest. Lay it out for me."
"I'm worried you're going to realize I'm not the person you think I am. All this crazy sex stuff… that's it. That's about as crazy as I get. Sometimes, most of the time in fact, I just want to stay home and read. Or write for my blog. Or bake a cake. Or maybe adopt a cat. When you have some free time, for the first time in years, what if you find all of that, all of the rest of me to be not enough?"
"How could you think that? Emma, fuck. I'm really sorry. I haven't been doing a good job at showing you how much I love you. Every bit of you. Like, every fucking inch of your mind and body. I love that you're chill. And apparently I need to remind you that I've had some off time in the past year and I still spent it silently stalking you outside the coffee shop."
She starts to argue, but I keep talking, "I'd be just as far along in my training if I had gone to a few parties or gone out a little more. But I don't because I don't want that either. Yes, I used to do that. But it was feeling old the last couple of years, and I was ready to just settle the fuck down. And then along came you, real-life you, and everything clicked into place."
I can't believe I'm even about to say it but I do anyway, "Maybe we should take sex off the table until after my fight."
"What!?" She shouts, and I can't help but chuckle at her.
"I don't want you to ever think that sex is the reason I'm with you. Is it a huge fucking bonus? Hell yes. But it's you Emma, you are who I love. Not your filthy fantasies. Okay, I love those too, but you know what I mean."
"Thank you Rafi. There's no way we're taking sex off the table. But I appreciate you even offering. I'll think about what you said. Your fight is only in a couple of weeks now, so we don't need to rush, but I promise I'll seriously consider a plan to move for when it's over. I'll try not to be so, you know, self-conscious."
"Good. Thank you. Now, since sex is still on the table, let's get back to what you were doing when I called." We've pretty much fucked in every position and used all of her toys, but phone sex is new.
She's so shy with her words sometimes, that when she just decides to be brave and blurts out what's on her mind, it's so fucking hot. Just like I told her, it's not that she's thinking dirty thoughts, it's that she owns it. When push comes to shove, she is unapologetically authentic and brave.
"Tell me, Emma, what were you doing?" I demand.
"I was… I was using my second favorite toy." She needs to name them I think, but I know which one she's talking about.
"Huh… the double-ended one that curves?" Last week she held one end like a handle and fucked her pussy with it while I fucked her in the ass. I like that toy, a lot.
"Yeah," it comes out like a whisper.
"Both ends?"
"No, just… umm, just one end…." She says so quietly, I can barely hear. Because she's shy or because she's turned on, maybe both, I don't know.
"Babe, grab the toy and get on all fours."
"Okay. Done," I chuckle, that was fast. I move to sit at the edge of the bed.
"You're on speaker so I can let go of the phone and fuck my hand."
"Mmmhmm," she moans.
"You like that? Picturing me fisting my cock?"
"Yes," she gasps.
"Slip the small end of the vibe into your pussy, get it nice and wet. Pump it a few times." I grip my cock and slowly start working it. She's wordless and breathy.
"Is it nice and wet?"
"Soaked," she whispers.
"Fuck. That's good, that's real good. Now position it against your ass and push it in. Take it all the way in. Let it stretch you and fill you. It's me inside you now, babe. God, I'm so fucking hard for you. Fuck," I'm swearing, working myself a little faster, picturing her.
She moans and I can't take it anymore.
"I'm calling you on video," I tell her, then hang up the phone and call her right back. Suddenly all I needed to see was her, spread open for me. She answers and the lights are on in her room. She's not ashamed, not hiding in the dark under the covers.
She's also stark naked, her brows furrowed, sitting on the vibrator. Holy shit it's such an insanely hot image. She adjusts the phone so it rests against the headboard so she doesn't need to hold it.
"Okay, bend the other end and fit it in your pussy." I start pumping my cock again, unable to keep the need at bay. I watch her with rapt interest while she adjusts and maneuvers so she's full with both ends. "Good girl. Now grab your favorite toy, the round one, the clit one," I instruct.
Her eyes widen, lips part in surprise, and I can see the swallow work down her throat. I'm getting close, still pumping my cock, but I don't give in yet. I know once she turns everything on, she'll be coming in seconds.
"Now, turn the dildo on," I instruct, knowing the button is at the point where it bends. She does as I say and I can hear through the speaker the vibe roar to life. She cries out when it turns on and I watch her roll her hips into it, trying to keep the toy from falling out. "It's okay, Emma, fuck the bed. Move your body. Get what you need. I'm with you, filling you up."
"You feel so good Rafi. Raze. God, you feel so good. I'm not going to last. It's too much." She's practically sobbing, and watching her like this, uninhibited, on the screen, it's unbelievable.
"Now put the other toy on your clit." She bites her lip and does as I say. "Turn it on," I tell her.
"Ahhhhh!" She cries out, every bit of her sex is being filled, or touched. It's so fucking hot. She's screaming, and I can't say anything else, I'm hissing and grunting, fucking my hand furiously. Root to tip, gripping and squeezing, picturing her pussy wrapping my cock in her tight warm channel.
It's too much, and she's crying, loudly, holding the round clit sucking toy in one hand, gripping the bed sheet into her fist with the other. "I'm coming!" She cries and I doubt thirty seconds have passed.
Suddenly I'm coming, too, my balls tighten up and my dick is so sensitive, the white-hot orgasm rips out of me. "Fuck!" I shout, cum shooting out of me, all over my hand, my leg. I'm still pumping, hard, when her cries die down.
It's quiet for a second. I hear the sound of the vibes turning off.
I'm still for a minute, spent, but manage to pull myself up, carrying my phone with me, and washing off in the bathroom. I walk back to the bed and crawl under the blanket.
I think she's fallen asleep when she says quietly, "Would you be okay living at my house?"
A smile splits my face and we talk about the pros and cons of both places well into the night. I fall asleep way too late but perfectly content.